


Antidote

by sainnis



Series: Fellowes Mews [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Prime Minister's Gala is a perfect opportunity for abduction and mayhem.  Roy and Ed are captured, and his Scooby Gang must come to the rescue.  </p><p>This is the fifth story in the Fellowes Mews series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyagosstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/gifts).



> Set awhile after “32 Down” and “Roadster vs. Fullmetal.” The working title for this was ‘Great Big Epic,’ and at that time it was the longest FMA piece I’d written. Please note the timestamps; some events are juxtaposed or happen out of sequence. Written for and beta-ed by nyagosstar, because she really loves long fic.

SATURDAY, 11:45 pm

Ed shivered on the concrete floor, his arms resting across his chest to keep the heat closer to his body. 

“Damn, it’s cold in here.” He exhaled, his breath rising towards the ceiling. 

Roy said nothing as he paced the far end of the room. It was twenty-six steps one way; Ed had counted the sounds as they echoed in the bare chamber. 

Closing his eyes, Ed exhaled as his heart kicked into another painful series of palpitations. He didn’t know how long had passed since his little experiment had failed, but it was quite clear his body had yet to forgive him for it. 

“Are you just going to ignore me now?” Roy’s silence had lasted for eons, it seemed, and if they were going to spend their last day on earth locked in a cell, they might at least have a little conversation. 

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m trying to think.”

“Have you come up with anything yet?”

Roy sighed. “I think it’s getting colder in here.”

Ed forced back the desire to swear at him. “You think?”

“Have you figured out where the hell we are? I can’t make any sense of what part of the house we’re under.”

“I think I have my blueprints in my back pocket. Hold on.”

Roy frowned. “There’s no need to be an asshole.”

“Sorry about that. I forgot to read my etiquette lesson on How To Behave When You’ve Been Taken Hostage By Fucking Nutjobs.” 

Drawing a deep breath, Roy shook his head. “And you wonder why I’m not saying anything to you? You’re just lying there on the floor, coming up with nothing.”

“I could have died! You want me to run a marathon? And it’s not like you’re coming up with anything yourself.” His rush of anger brought a swell of heat into his blood, and Ed relished the momentary warmth. “Why the hell would you think I’d send you a note? A note, Roy?”

“You have a job to do, Ed! You went with her! How could you be so stupid? There were about a hundred other people you could have asked, but you left me!” Roy wasn’t shouting; in fact, his voice was almost softer than usual, but the coldness of his tone made Ed feel as if he’d screamed in his face. 

Ed took a shuddering breath. “I’m not saying I didn’t fuck up.”

“We both fucked up.”

A moment of silence passed between them, and Ed finally looked up at Roy. “So now what?”

Roy shook his head. “We wait.”

 

SATURDAY, 2:01 am 

Al woke up screaming.

As he gasped for breath, two hands pressed against his face, fingertips splayed across his skin. “Hey there. It’s okay.” Riza bowed her head towards him until their foreheads rested against one another. “Just breathe.”

He touched the bed, the sheets, finally bringing his hand up to his throat, terrified until his fingers found flesh. “Yeah. It’s okay,” he whispered. He closed his eyes, still panting. “Bad dream.” 

Her fingers stroked his sides, and he was grateful for the reassurance he was actually awake. “You’re drenched.”

His temples and neck were warm with sweat, and his shirt clung in clammy patches to his skin. Al tugged at it, and she reached over to help him slip it over his head. Cool air bathed his flesh, and he took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. She pulled him closer, adjusting the blankets. “Are you cold?”

“No.”

“You’re shaking.”

He didn’t answer, and instead smoothed his palm over her hair. She pressed her cheek to his chest, slipping her arm across his stomach. His heart hadn’t slowed yet, and thumped painfully against his ribs. There were times, even now, that it felt strange to feel his heart beat at all, to feel his lungs fill each time he breathed. There were moments, even still, that this body of pulsing blood and warm flesh felt like it belonged to someone else. 

Her eyelashes brushed against his skin when she blinked. “Was it the same one?”

“No.” Al exhaled, stroking her cheek. 

“Worse?”

“The end was.” His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he studied the outline of her body beneath the blankets. 

She sighed against him, her breath warm. “You were thrashing around. I started to wake you and you screamed.”

“I’m sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep.”

She turned her head to look up at him. “Why was the end worse?”

“It was just a bad dream.” Al rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. 

“Our bad dreams are a little different than other people’s.” 

“It’s not a big deal.” Al exhaled. As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion came to take its place. “I didn’t die this time.”

Riza’s grip around his waist tightened slightly. “So you were trapped. In your armor.”

Al grimaced, although he knew she couldn’t see. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She sat up suddenly, placing both palms flat on his chest, pushing hard enough to make his ribs ache a little. “No one can take this body from you. Not gates, not arrays, nothing. I promise you that.”

He nodded, and she eased up, letting him breathe easier. “It’s not the armor, you know, that really gets to me. I don’t want to go back there, but if I had to…I’m just saying it’s not the armor.”

“What is it, then?”

“In the dream…you were gone. Ed was gone. The armor was broken. I couldn’t move. My soul couldn’t go to be,” he paused. “You know.” 

Riza slid down to rest beside him. “You deserve far better dreams than that.”

A faint smile crossed his lips. “I dreamt a few weeks ago that we got another cat.”

She groaned in mock protest. “You promised no more cats.”

“It was just a dream.” He pressed closer to her, hoping to steal some of her warmth. “You never tell me about your dreams.”

She made an indelicate sound, one a less polite man might call a snort. “You don’t dream in the military. You fall into bed and hope you wake up the next day.”

“You’re not technically military anymore. You should be allowed to have a dream now and then.”

“I’m National Security Advisor, which is close enough.”

He rested his head on her hair, smelling the lavender soap she used. “You do dream, you know, even if you can’t remember them. The human brain can’t function unless it dreams.”

“Neither one of us is going to be able to function tomorrow if we don’t get some more sleep.” She yawned, pulling the blankets up to her chin. “I forgot to tell you. Your tuxedo came back from the cleaners this afternoon.”

“What? Oh. Right. Roy’s University Gala Shindig Thing. You’re still coming, right?”

“I don’t really have much choice, seeing how I’m your date, and you did ask very nicely.”

He kissed her temple. “The black dress, right?”

She laughed. “How many dresses do you think I have?”

“Excellent.” 

 

SATURDAY, 2:05 am

Ed woke stifling a cry.

The pain burning in his right leg forced him out of bed and onto his feet, and he gingerly pressed the ball of his foot against the plush carpet of the Captain’s suite, making the muscle scream with the effort. He mouthed the worst curses he knew, panting for breath until finally the spasm passed, leaving a deep ache in his calf muscle. Exhaling slowly, he sat on the edge of the bed, flexing his leg until the burning grew less fierce. 

Damn cramp. He checked the clock. Five minutes after two. A ghostly light shone through between the curtains, making the room appear milky blue, which suited the environment, as the suite had a nautical theme. Roy lie on his side, facing Ed, and his hair fell across his eyes. His breathing was deep and slow, and a slight smile curved his lips, as if he knew something Ed didn’t. 

Ed scowled at him. If Roy had jumped out of bed with a cramp, he would have been only a beat behind him, alert and ready to face whatever danger awaited. It was quite shocking, actually, that someone who’d advanced as far as Mustang had in the military could sleep so soundly. He bounced a little on the mattress, shoving himself away from the edge. When his actions had no effect, he swung his legs up, letting them fall heavily onto the bed. 

Roy didn’t move.

Frowning, Ed lay down, exhaling loudly. He slid closer to Roy, bumping him into him ever so slightly. He reached out, lifting Roy’s wrist, and then let go. His hand fell limply, fingers curling under his palm. 

Roy slept on.

“Damn it!” Ed said. He turned until his mouth was close to Roy’s ear. He finally let out a low groan, clutching his right leg. Melodramatic, yes, but also effective.

Roy’s eyes blinked open, and he pawed at the drool at the corner of his mouth. He grunted, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “What’s going on?” 

“Sorry I woke you,” Ed said, bringing his right knee up to his chest. His leg still hurt a little, so it wasn’t as if he’d fabricated the entire thing. 

“Are you okay?”

“Just a cramp.”

Roy slid back down onto his pillow, his long hair hanging over his left eye. “You should stand up,” he said, yawning.

“I did that already.”

Roy slid his hands under the blankets, and moments later warm fingers began massaging his leg, sliding slowly from knee to ankle.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He smirked. “I’m the Prime Minister. I don’t technically have to do anything.” 

Ed sighed, leaning back against his pillow as Roy’s touch eased the tension out of his calf muscle. There was a microscopic part of him that felt guilty for waking Roy over something insignificant, but the rest of him was enjoying the sensation of skin on skin far too much to pay it any heed. “That feels nice.” 

Roy’s fingers strayed above his knee, brushing against the short hair along Ed’s inner thigh. His voice was husky. “You know what no one ever tells you about becoming the leader of a country?”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t get laid nearly as often as you think you will.”

Ed squirmed when Roy’s fingers found a ticklish spot. “How often did you expect to get laid?”

“I don’t know. A few times a day, I guess.”

Ed laughed. “You think you could keep up with that kind of pace?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Roy moved his hand up to Ed’s right hip, fingering the slight dip between muscle and bone. “Heads of state always get a lot of sex.”

Sticking out his tongue, Ed mimed throwing up. “The, uh, prior administration would be the glaring exception to that rule, right?”

Roy groaned, closing his eyes. “Let’s not even go there. We’re talking about me now. Stay on topic.”

Ed gave him a shove. “If you’re just looking to get off, hey, there are about forty-eight bathrooms in this place and plenty of clean towels.”

Sliding his hand around Ed’s hips, Roy slipped his hand inside of Ed’s boxers. “Don’t pretend you’re not interested.”

“Please. I am always interested.” He reached his own hand into his boxers, following after Roy’s. “But here’s the thing. You have a six am appointment, followed by an eight, followed by an eight-thirty, and that’s just before breakfast. And don’t forget the ridiculous black-tie blah-blah you insist on hosting tonight.” Ed tilted his head towards Roy. “I have an idea. Instead of having middle-of-the-night sex and waking up two hours later exhausted and pissed, let’s leave the party early tonight and fuck each other’s brains out. What do you say?” 

Roy held his breath, and then burst into hysterical laughter. “Do I need to get my secretary?”

“You have, like, eleven of them. And they’re not invited.”

“You’re putting off sex now until later?”

Ed let his head fall back with a sigh. “If you don’t get any sleep tonight you’re going to hate me in the morning.”

“That’s not true.” Scoffing, Roy pushed himself up, straddling Ed’s hips. “I can keep it going as long as you can.” He leaned forward, their chests touching as Roy started kissing Ed’s neck.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret.”

Roy sucked on the skin at the base of Ed’s throat. “What?”

“I, um, didn’t actually wake you up for sex. I woke you up because I wanted you to rub my leg for me.”

Roy pulled back, confused. “Seriously?”

Ed stared up at the ceiling, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Roy climbed awkwardly off of Ed, and Ed found it difficult to breathe. He didn’t mind offending Roy on pretty much anything, but the subject of sex wasn’t an area he wanted to say the wrong thing in. Roy lay down beside him, and then rested his head on Ed’s shoulder, sighing. “That’s good, because as much as I want you inside me, I think there’s a pretty good chance I’d fall asleep halfway through. And then you’ll hate me in the morning.”

Ed laughed as if he’d known all along that Roy was relieved. “The cock is willing, but the body is weak.”

Roy kissed his arm, his chest. “I like your plan. Tonight we’re leaving early. Where are we sleeping?”

“Oh, God. You would ask me that.” Ed closed his eyes, trying to picture the suite schedule. There were over twenty bedrooms they used on a rotating basis, and several guest suites they occasionally slept in. “Okay. I’m pretty sure it’s the Ebony suite.”

He sighed into Ed’s skin. “I love that one.”

Ed smiled in the dark. “Yeah, that’s a good one.” He pressed a kiss to Roy’s forehead, smoothing back his hair. “Go to sleep. You’ll need your rest, because you’re not getting any tonight.”

 

SATURDAY, 7:30 pm

Roy thrust a garment bag at Ed, but he wouldn’t take it. “I’m not wearing that.”

“Um, yeah, you are. It’s black tie.”

Ed held up a finger, and then pointed it at Roy. “We had a deal.”

Roy cocked his head like a confused puppy. “What?”

Crossing his arms over his bare chest, Ed shook his head. “I don’t do tuxes. You don’t do leather. It’s a sad state of affairs, but that’s life.”

“Leather is too hot,” Roy said.

“Yeah, well, tuxes make me look short.” He sighed. “Er.”

Pulling his crisp white shirt over his shoulders, Roy started to fasten the long line of buttons from navel to neck. “You’d look really good in a tux.”

“And God knows you’d look fantastic in these,” Ed said as he tugged on his black leather pants. Although his former military career had afforded a few luxuries, his current position boasted many more, including a personal tailor. 

“It still feels strange,” Roy said, fumbling with his cummerbund, “To wear something other than a uniform for a dress function.”

Ed stood in front of the closet, trying to decide which shirt to wear. “Are you saying you miss wearing one?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It was one less decision I had to make every day, I guess.” He threw Ed a half-smile, making Roy look five years younger. The Prime Minister cut an elegant figure in his coat and tails, while his slightly long black hair made him appear mildly mysterious, even roguish. Considering how difficult the past decade had been on Roy Mustang, there was no earthly reason why he should look as good as he did, but Ed liked to think that it had something to do with his influence. 

Ed fingered the fabric of a number of shirts, still debating his choice of attire for the evening. Roy came to stand behind him, his arms threading beneath Ed’s, and cool fingers came to rest on Ed’s stomach. Leaning back against him, Ed took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “Do we really have to go downstairs?”

Roy chuckled, his chin resting on Ed’s shoulder. “I have to go, so that means you’re obligated by default.”

“Why the hell do you care about University politics?”

“Bradley screwed CU. He took their brightest students, stripped their funding, and overtook their buildings for his use. These professors have kept the University afloat through really shitty times. It’s important they know I’m taking them seriously, and that I intend to restore the resources they deserve. Hopefully, they’ll help spread a little goodwill towards our cause as well. It’s good to have smart people like you.” Roy gave Ed a squeeze, tight enough to force a little air out of Ed’s lungs. “Come on. Hurry up. The sooner we get to the party…”

Ed grinned. “The sooner we get to leave.” He plucked a matching black shirt out of his closet, throwing it over his head. “This is just the science departments, right? There’s not going to be wack-job philosophy professors spouting nonsense all night, will there?”

Staring at himself in the mirror, Roy attempted to tie his bow tie for perhaps the sixth time. “Medicine and science. A lot of Al’s colleagues will be there.”

Ed snorted. “Former colleagues. Al is so young and ridiculously smart, he put them all to shame.”

Roy raised his eyebrows. “I can’t think of who that reminds me of.”

“Whatever. The university didn’t really know what to do with him. That’s why he’s happier working at the hospital, and only teaching a class or two when he wants to.” Ed shook his head, thinking of his baby brother. “It’s probably a good thing the professors have no idea how much money he got in that Amestris grant you had nothing to do with.”

“It’s not like I gave him a blank check. It was for the hospital. Besides, Al’s not the sort to spend the government’s money on fast cars and loose women.”

Ed laughed. “Yeah, he’d sooner spend it on new automail for me and automatic weapons for Hawkeye.”

Roy rolled his eyes, brushing a speck of lint from the lapel of his tuxedo. “Are you ready yet?”

“Yeah, almost.” Ed put on a long black coat, one recently made to his specifications. It was made of lightweight yet fire-retardant material, and silver embroidery arrays encircled the cuffs, collar, and hem. It looked both kick-ass and expensive, a combination he was beginning to truly love. 

“So is the whole fan club coming?” Ed asked innocently, taking one last look at his hair. 

“I hate it when you call them that.”

“Years have gone by, and you can’t shake them. That’s a fan club.” Roy had an uncanny knack to make people like him, and inspired a ridiculous amount of loyalty in those around him, especially his former military co-workers. Whenever Roy transferred, his little coterie was right behind.

“They’re my friends. Yours too, in case you forgot.”

“I heard they got shirts made. ‘I Heart Mustang’.”

Roy sighed, and watched as Ed outfitted himself with an assortment of weapons, some concealed, and some more obvious. “You think you need the sword?”

“You like the sword. Also, it’s dressy. I’m using the special occasion scabbard, see?”

“Fine, keep the sword.”

Ed shrugged. “I don’t tell you how to be Prime Minister, right?”

“Like hell you don’t.”

“True. Well, never mind. The analogy doesn’t apply as well as I thought it would.” Ed slipped on white gloves out of sheer habit, and then waggled his fingers at Roy. “You bringing firepower with you?”

“For a University cocktail party?”

“I’m just asking.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. These people need to see me as a person, not a politician who’ll use brute force and alchemy to get what he wants. Not all of them are so keen on the Military, you know.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Ed peered more closely at Roy. “You have your knife?”

“Yeah.”

Ed nodded. “All right. But don’t wander far tonight.”

“I’m not a novice. This isn’t my first public appearance, you know.” 

“I do know. I also know you’re in your own home, and you’re going to feel more comfortable than you should, considering how many people are here you’ve never met. We upped security inside and out, but I’m not going to be happy until we’re in the Ebony suite with the door locked and the professors long gone.”

Roy’s gaze grew more intense as he lowered his eyelids. “I’m not going to be happy until you’re naked on top of me.” 

A slow smile crept over Ed’s face as he opened the door, leaning out into the hallway to give the all clear. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

SATURDAY, 9:26 pm

“How many has that been?” Ed whispered in Roy’s ear, glancing briefly at the scar on his temple.

Roy pursed his lips, whispering back. “Just two. And it’s mostly tonic. You need to relax.”

“I don’t want to have to carry you out of here.”

Roy gave him the evil eye, and Ed stepped back, panning the room slowly. The party had been rather genteel, actually; Roy had presented a number of new grants to various faculty members, and a plaque was given in honor of a professor who died during the last days of Bradley’s reign. Toasts were lifted, wine glasses filled, all from Mustang’s private stock. 

“And you wondered why I took a sabbatical from University,” a familiar voice whispered.

Ed smiled wryly at his brother. “These people really know how to have fun.”

Al grimaced. “I shouldn’t be so hard on them. They taught me a lot. And with Roy’s backing, a lot more advances will come.”

Across the room, Hawkeye stood closely with Hughes, deep in conversation. “Just look at her.”

Al smiled, blushing faintly. “She looks amazing. Not that that’s anything new.” He cleared his throat. “Isn’t it strange to see everyone looking, I don’t know, normal for once?”

“What exactly makes you think any of us would fit the definition of normal?”

Al gestured at the room. “Look at us. I’m in a tuxedo. You look like a prince. Riza looks like a film star. Did you see Ross’s engagement ring? Brosch must have gotten a raise. Havoc even got a haircut. You could almost believe that our lives have been just like everyone else’s.”

Ed shrugged, watching as Roy began speaking with the dean of the University. “We clean up well, that’s all.”

“Riza and I were thinking about cutting out early,” Al said quietly. “She said she wasn’t feeling well.” 

“Oh, yeah? I can’t imagine why you’d want to.” He gave his brother a little shove. “I say get out while the getting’s good. If the Prime Minister has any brains, we’ll do the same thing.” Ed moved closer to Roy, staying far enough away to give the dean the feeling of privacy, but keeping within a perimeter he was more comfortable with. 

“I’ve been working on a new design,” Al said, his excitement bleeding into his voice as it always did. “I think you’re really going to like it. I want to talk with you about some adjustments, though. Can we meet up soon?” 

Al had come up with several new prototypes of automail, but he hadn’t been fully satisfied with any of them. He was trying to figure out a way to create ports that wouldn’t cause such excruciating pain when the automail was removed or reattached. If he was successful, it would change life for the better for many people in Amestris. 

“Yeah. I can call you tomorrow, if you want.”

“Great.” Al suddenly stared at Hawkeye, and then gave a brief nod. “I just got the signal. I’m supposed to rescue her from Hughes.” 

Ed grinned. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Al waved, and threaded his way through the crowd towards Riza. Refocusing his attention, Ed listened to the conversation going on between Roy and the dean.

“—told him he’d have better luck elsewhere!” the dean said, crowing with laughter.

Roy joined in good-naturedly, although Ed could tell Roy didn’t find the man’s joke remotely amusing. It said a lot about your relationship with a person if you could tell when they were faking a laugh, Ed thought. 

Servers swirled through the crowd, filling glasses and toting plates of hors d’oeuvres, which Ed was relieved to see Roy pass by. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the staff, especially considering these servers had been cleared through security, but he much preferred when Roy didn’t leave things to chance. 

They moved towards the bar, where the dean freshened his scotch. “I hope you plan on making this an annual event,” he said to Roy. “This is the nicest reception we’ve had in years.”

Roy smiled easily. “It’s my pleasure.”

Ed chewed on the inside of his cheek. It could go on like this all night. Roy was making friends all over, but at this rate, they wouldn’t be able to leave for hours. 

A young woman left the bar, her glass full to brimming, but as she walked by she collapsed, her wine splashing down Ed’s front.

Ed immediately found Hughes and made eye contact, instructing him with a slight lift of his chin to accompany Roy. As Hughes moved to come alongside the Prime Minister, Ed knelt down beside the young woman. Broken glass littered the ground, and the crowd stepped back to give her some room. She appeared to be semi-conscious, her lips moving, but no sound escaped them. 

Ed looked about for Al, but he was no longer in the ballroom. A middle-aged man approached Ed, one he vaguely recognized from a photograph as one of Al’s professors. “I’m a doctor,” he said, kneeling on the woman’s opposite side. He looked in her eyes, and checked her vital signs. “We need to get her out of here. Can you help me carry her?”

Flinging a glance at Roy over his shoulder, he saw Hughes had joined into the conversation with the dean. Several other members of security had slipped into the room, just as a precaution, and Ed nodded at the doctor. “Let’s take her over there. There’s a sitting room where you’ll have some quiet.”

Ed took the woman’s shoulders, and together they moved her away from the gaping crowd. He used his hip to push open the doors to the sitting room, and helped the doctor settle the woman on a couch. “You think she’s all right?”

“Probably had too much to drink.” The doctor peered more closely at her. “Wait a moment. Do you see that? Look at her neck. Tell me if you see the same thing.”

Ed bent over, brushing aside the woman’s hair to get a better view. A small spot of blood was visible on the side of her throat. “You think she’s been poi—“

Something dark and sickly-smelling slipped over Ed’s head, and in seconds, the world spun away, fading to black.

 

SATURDAY, 10:11pm 

Roy scanned the ballroom, looking for a blond dressed in black. “It’s been at least ten minutes. Where the hell is he?”

Hughes opened his mouth to speak, but one of the house security guards handed him a note, and he read it quickly. Sighing, he passed it to Roy. “It’s from Ed.”

The note was scribbled, barely legible, and only had five words: 

Kitchen. Gas leak. Everybody out.

Ed wasn’t usually one for notes, but Roy understood the circumstances called for haste. “We haven’t exactly practiced this,” he whispered to Hughes. “How do you do this without causing total panic?”

“Here’s what we need to do.” Hughes began giving Roy directions, but it became increasingly hard to hear him as the alarm system suddenly began blaring overhead. 

“Damn it, now they think there’s a fire,” Hughes said.

“Oh my God! That man said there’s a fire!” a woman standing nearby screamed, and in moments, pandemonium had overtaken the ballroom.

In spite of himself and the situation, Roy shook his head at Hughes. “Nice going.”

Hughes glared at him. “We’ve got to get you out, preferably through the side doors. I don’t want you out in front of the house.” He gestured to Havoc, who was already crossing the sea of fleeing humanity towards them. 

“Havoc, get the car. East entry.”

Roy followed after Hughes, who was moving quickly out towards the foyer. “What about Ed?”

“He knows how to take care of himself. He’ll probably be on the south side, by the kitchen. We’ll pick him up.”

Roy muttered curses, keeping pace with Hughes. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried to keep away from disaster, it seemed to follow him like one of Al’s stupid cats.

“We’re almost there.” Hughes kept looking back to make sure Roy was right behind him, and Roy thought not for the first time that it was a far better thing to have Hughes as Chief of Staff than as a bodyguard. The fact Hughes was alive at all today was beyond miraculous, and Roy intended to keep him that way, no matter what.

As they approached the east entry, Roy saw Havoc get out of the roadster and then fall to his knees, gasping for breath. 

Roy shouted, “Havoc!” 

Hughes stopped dead in front of Roy, pushing him back. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

As Hughes ran outside to check on Havoc, another security guard appeared beside Roy. He handed Roy a second note, and Roy took it, his chest tight with worry for Havoc. 

Go with this guard. Quickly.

Roy flung a glance towards Hughes, who helped Havoc lay on the ground. He started to walk towards the door to show Hughes the note he’d just received, but the guard lifted a hand, shaking his head. 

“Sir, there isn’t time. It’s just the fumes. Everyone is having trouble breathing.” He gestured quickly. “Follow me.”

Roy shook his head. “I’m staying here until I speak with Hughes.”

The guard’s expression became anxious. “He told me not to tell you, but sir, it’s Mr. Elric. He’s hurt.”

Looking back at Havoc and Hughes, Roy finally nodded and followed the guard. They moved quickly through the house, and the guard pulled out two facemasks. “The fumes get worse through here. Put this on. It’ll help.”

Roy slipped the mask over his nose and mouth, and was momentarily surprised by its strange odor. He’d smelled it before. Before he could remember where, the smell grew so strong he could no longer see, and his knees buckled beneath him.

 

SATURDAY, 10:49 pm

Something struck Roy’s face, and he groaned, trying to push away the hands that held him down. He blinked, but his vision remained blurry, and he felt like his mouth was full of wool. 

Voices spoke sharply, insisting he stop struggling. He continued to thrash until they mentioned Ed’s name, and his muddled brain realized they were threatening to hurt Ed. Roy went limp, panting for breath, and they hoisted him onto his feet, forcing him to stagger down a dimly lit corridor. He couldn’t see his captors’ faces; he could barely see the next step in front of him. 

He heard the sound of a door being unlocked, and they pushed him inside. They gave him a shove, and he flew forward, catching himself against the cold concrete floor. He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled, the weakness of his own limbs surprising him. Rolling onto his side, he blinked again, trying to clear his vision. It was improving slightly, but was still maddeningly blurry. 

“Get your hands the fuck off of him!” Ed lay on the floor across the room from him, spread-eagle. It took Roy a moment to make out the ropes that bound his limbs to eyehooks in the concrete.

One of the men walked over to Ed and kicked him in the stomach. Ed writhed in pain, and then spat at him, which earned him a second kick, which left Ed gasping. “Stop…” Roy tried to speak, but his tongue slid around in his mouth disobediently, keeping him from forming words. He gestured weakly at them, but they paid him no heed. He cursed himself for not bringing his gloves, for not listening to Ed. 

Another of their captors approached Ed, taking his chin and turning his head. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” He strained against his bindings, but they held fast. The man pressed something shiny against Ed’s neck, and he yelped.

Roy felt hands on him again, and though he tried to lift his arms to push them away, he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open. Something sharp stuck Roy’s neck as well, and he groaned as it left a burning pain in its wake. 

“What the fuck is your fucking problem?” Ed screamed, his voice taking on that slightly hysterical edge that made Roy start to fully comprehend how dire their situation had become. They walked away from Ed, one of them giving him a halfhearted kick as he turned to look down at Roy. 

“You’ve both just been poisoned. The toxin makes it impossible for you to work alchemy. If you don’t receive the antidote in less than twelve hours, you will never be able to do alchemy again. If you behave yourselves and our demands are met, you will be restored and released. Make any attempt to escape, and many will die.” Before Roy could even begin processing their words, they stepped from the room, closing the door behind them.

“Roy! Are you okay?” Ed had rolled onto his side as far as the ropes would allow, his eyes large and desperate in the dim light.

Roy forced himself upright, holding the sides of his head. He felt strangely motion-sick, as if he’d been in the back of a car for days. “Don’t…know,” he said finally, grateful he was able to get two words together.

“Don’t move. It’ll wear off. It’s some sort of fucking paralyzing drug.” Roy could hear Ed’s harsh exhalations as he struggled against his bonds. “I think,” he hissed, “I can get an arm free.”

“Let…me…help.” 

“Don’t be an asshole. Don’t move yet.”

Roy ignored him, moving onto his knees. His balance was completely off, and he kept his movements slow and small. He crept across the concrete towards Ed, breathing hard. Dizziness nearly overwhelmed him, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the solidity of the ground beneath him. It took far too long, but he finally reached Ed’s side, and he blinked hard, trying to force his vision clear.

He reached out a hand, touching Ed’s face, careful around the black eye someone had given him. “They…hit… you.” Ed closed his eyes for a brief moment, his body stilling as he pressed his cheek into Roy’s palm. “They told me,” Roy said slowly, “you…were…hurt.”

“I can’t believe they got you too.” Ed sighed, finally shaking his head. “They took your weapons?”

Roy’s tuxedo coat was gone, and he saw Ed’s coat was gone as well. His fingers were uncoordinated, but it didn’t take long for Roy to determine his knife had been taken. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay. I think I,” Ed grunted, straining hard enough for the veins in his temple and throat to appear beneath the skin. His automail arm broke through the rope, and he fell back with a grin, catching his breath. “I was a little worried I might break this,” he said, gesturing with his automail. “Tying me up with steel cables? Fucking barbarians.”

It took Ed no time at all to free his other limbs, and once freed, he knelt by Roy, taking Roy’s face in his hands. “Now that you’re awake, you’ll feel much better. The drugs are strong, but they won’t last long.”

“That shot,” Roy said, wishing desperately his mouth could keep up with his brain. “What…do you think…it was?”

“It’s shit. It’s ridiculous nonsense scientists tell each other when they’re trying to fall asleep at night. There’s no such thing as an alchemist poison. It’s impossible, and even if it was, it would more likely kill you than it would stop you from doing alchemy.” Ed’s face moved closer to his, examining his eyes. “Your vision will get better soon. In the meantime, I’m getting us out of here.” He pressed a kiss to Roy’s forehead, smoothing Roy’s hair away from face. “Those fucking bastards are going to pay.”

Ed stood, looking strangely glorious and not a little dangerous with his black eye and leather pants. “Alchemist poison. Somebody’s been reading too many fairy tales.” He focused his energy, and then brought his hands together. 

For a moment, nothing happened, and then suddenly, Ed’s body went rigid. His knees buckled, and Ed collapsed to the floor, the beginnings of a scream starting in his throat.

“Ed!” Roy crawled to where Ed had fallen, moving as fast as his limbs would allow. Ed’s breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving. 

“Ed, what’s wrong?”

Ed kept panting, and Roy smoothed his hand awkwardly over his lover’s forehead. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Ed’s body shook uncontrollably, and he gritted his teeth, a strangled cry escaping his lips. 

“Ed, I’m here.” Roy held one hand on Ed’s cheek and one on his chest, trying to calm him. The color was slipping from Ed’s face, giving him the pallor of someone left to die on the battlefield. When the worst of Ed’s shaking subsided, he opened his eyes, still trembling. 

“It hurts…” His pupils dilated, turning his golden eyes dark.

“It’s probably…” Roy said, willing his mouth to cooperate. “A reaction. Just try to…stay calm.”

“They weren’t lying.” Ed’s voice was small, and he still couldn’t get an easy breath. “Oh god, it’s bad.” He arched his back, starting a litany of curses in between rasping wheezes. 

Roy tried to keep his voice even, stroking Ed’s forehead. “It’ll be okay.” 

Ed pressed a hand to his chest, wincing. “Hurts to breathe.” He closed his eyes, his expression tight as his gasped for breath. “Shit…” He’d grown paler, if that was even possible. 

“What’s wrong?”

Ed groaned. “My heart.” 

Reaching down, Roy touched his fingers to Ed’s throat, but his pulse was so fast it was nearly impossible to tell one beat from the next. Panic washed over Roy, and for a moment he sat frozen, terrified that Ed might die right beside him, and that he could do nothing to stop it. 

Roy exhaled shakily. The sudden rush of adrenaline in his blood was displacing the effects of the drugs, and he moved as quickly as he could. Placing on knee on either side of Ed’s hips, he straddled him. “Give me your hand.” 

Ed obliged, his expression drawn with pain.

Roy pressed Ed’s hand to his own chest, concentrating on his words to make sure he got them all out. “Ed. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to slow your body down together, okay? Are you ready?”

Ed nodded, his eyes screwed shut. 

“Can you feel me breathing?” He waited until Ed nodded again. 

“Breathe at the same time as me.” He exaggerated his inhalations and exhalations, watching Ed’s chest to see if he was having any success. At first it seemed like Ed’s gasping was never going to stop, but after a few minutes, Ed was able to draw deeper breaths. 

“You’re doing great. That’s it.” Roy supplied a string of soothing words, trying desperately to keep any fear from his voice. “Breathe with me. You got it.”

Their chests finally rose and fell together, and Ed’s eyes opened, meeting Roy’s gaze. “Is the pain still as bad as before?”

Ed shook his head. “Getting…less.”

“Keep breathing. It’s okay. We’ll get there.” Roy kept up the even rhythm, grateful to see the color returning to Ed’s face. He felt Ed’s pulse again, and although it was still fast, it had slowed enough to give Roy a measure of relief. Roy gave Ed a slight smile. “Pretend we’re somewhere else. Pretend we’re in a warm bed somewhere far away.”

“Thinking about…” Ed said softly between breaths, “us in bed isn’t going to…slow my heart down.”

“Sorry.” Roy brushed back a lock of hair from Ed’s forehead. 

Ed sighed, shaking his head. “Not that I don’t…like you on top of me…but I think I’m okay…for the moment.”

Climbing off of him gingerly, Roy sat beside him, taking Ed’s flesh hand, rubbing his thumb against Ed’s knuckles. “Pain still bad?” 

“Not quite.” Ed rested his head against Roy’s leg. “What the fuck are we going to do? You can barely walk, I’m having a goddamned heart attack and we can’t do alchemy.” He stared up at Roy, and his gaze was fearful, an expression that looked ridiculously out of place on Ed. “We can’t fucking do alchemy, Roy. What the hell are we going to do?”

Roy exhaled, watching his breath form into vapor. He hadn’t realized how cold the room was until now. “I don’t know. Give me a minute.”

 

SATURDAY 10:01 pm

“You look really pale,” Al said, looking over at Riza.

“Keep your eyes on the road. I’m fine.” She rested her head against the window of their car, reaching forward to roll down the window a little. It was a cold night, and the chill air made gooseflesh rise on Al’s neck.

Al reached over to squeeze her hand, and she sighed, letting him. “I must’ve eaten something strange. It’s no big deal.”

“I ate the same things you did. I don’t feel sick.”

“You’re getting worked up over nothing.”

“I’m not worked up.”

Riza laughed a little, and then frowned as if it was against her better judgment. “You’re driving way too fast. You’re worked up. And it’s sweet, but there are a lot of deer around here, so could you please slow down?”

Al checked the speedometer, and found he was pushing 50 mph. “Sorry.”

She took a deep breath, letting the cold air saturate the cabin, and she closed her eyes.  
“You still feeling lightheaded?”

“Not like before.” She waved off his concern, and then suddenly sat up straight. “Stop the car!”

Her cry startled Al, nearly making him run off the road. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” She kept repeating the phrase several more times, running her hands through her hair as she leaned forward. 

“Riza, what’s wrong?” He reached out to touch her, but she brushed his hands away, shaking her head.

“Turn around. We’re going back. Now.”

Al looked at her, bewildered, but obeyed her command, swinging the car around to head back towards the Manor. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

She was mumbling to herself as she unbuckled her seat belt, and then crawled between the front seats to the backseat. He heard the sound of her digging around in the back. “Good. Four more back here.” 

He heard the sound of a safety going off, and Al gripped the wheel more tightly. “We have guns in the car?”

“Not nearly enough.” The sound of a cartridge sliding into place came next. “What do you know about Ricin gas?”

“I thought the military stopped using it.”

“They did. Mostly. It’s beside the point. We still used it in Ishbal. I was exposed to it a few times years ago, and with each exposure, the reaction happens more quickly. It was in the Manor tonight.”

“We were all standing there. None of us felt anything at all.”

“You will later. The first time you’re exposed, you don’t even know.” Riza slammed her fist against the car seat, making Al jump. “Shit. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I didn’t realize sooner.”

“You think someone released chemicals at the party? If they’re going to all that trouble, why pick something that doesn’t cause an immediate reaction?”

“Whoever did it has something else in mind.” She gripped Al’s shoulder over the seat. “Drive faster.” 

 

SATURDAY, 11:03 pm 

“This is bullshit.” Hughes yanked on his bow tie, undoing the tight knot at his throat until it hung limply around his neck. “Why haven’t they called yet?” 

Hawkeye kept her gaze trained on the Manor. “They’re making us wait.”

Hughes pressed his fingertips against his brow, sighing. “Is Havoc going to be okay?”

She looked over her shoulder to their car, where Al had made a makeshift tailgate infirmary for anyone affected by the gas. “Al’s checking on him. I’m sure he’ll be fine in a few hours.”

Hughes stared down at the phone Furey had set up for them on the opposite side of the driveway. Beneath the glow of the torches they’d hastily erected, he could see wires snaking between the landscaped bushes leading up to the Manor. 

“You sure you’re up for this?”

Feeling himself bristle at her words, Hughes made himself take a breath before he answered. “This I can do. The better question is, are you? You still look a little shaky.”

Hawkeye’s gaze narrowed. “I’m nobody you need to worry about.”

He tilted his head, giving her a half smile. “That I already know.”

They stood silent for a few minutes, and Hughes stared up at the sky, watching as clouds passed over the stars. Even in his wool greatcoat, it was still bitterly cold. Hawkeye’s long black skirt blew in the wind, trailing out from beneath the peacoat she’d borrowed from Al. With her hair thrown up behind her head and her hand resting on the gun slung from her hip, it was almost easy to imagine they were back in their uniforms waiting for orders. At that moment, he felt like the only thing that had changed were their clothes. 

The phone rang, and Hughes felt his stomach drop. Hawkeye flashed a look at him, and he waited for it to ring a second time before answering it. 

“Maes Hughes.” 

The voice on the other end spoke quietly and without haste. “Can’t seem to escape your old life, can you, Mr. Hughes?”

He wasn’t sure what the man meant exactly, but he figured it would be better to play along for the moment. “Not as such. Who am I speaking with?”

“Not yet. You’ll know soon enough. The first order of business is quite simple. Everyone needs to back up. I’ve got your boys crawling everywhere, and if people start shooting, there’s a good chance a large part of the house will explode. Tell them to get back, and if they keep their guns to themselves, no one will get blown up.”

“I’ll tell them. It’s going to take a few minutes for everyone to fall back.”

“Good. I’m starting off with the easy ones, Mr. Hughes. I know it’s been awhile since you’ve done this.”

Hughes suddenly felt like he was losing ground already, and tried to get the man to focus. “I’m interested to know how the Prime Minister and Edward Elric are.”

“Killing for pleasure is the military’s business. You know that. Men of science only kill under duress. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“It’s hard to say. When I had a gun to my head, the matters of politics and science were pretty far from my mind.”

“Very pragmatic, Mr. Hughes. This one’s going to be a little harder, and you’re going to need a pen.”

“I’m ready.”

“Belkins. Litchman. Tzappas. Orangfield. All sentenced for life by your administration. You will schedule their immediate release, and you will have them escorted here to the Manor.”

Hughes’ eyes widened as his pen wrote their names. All of them had worked under Bradley, and their war crimes were widely documented. “That’s going to take some time.”

“You’re in luck, because you do have time. For the moment.”

“How much time?”

“You have eleven hours and forty-eight minutes.”

“That’s very precise. Is there something in particular that’s happening at that time?”

“We have two of your State Alchemists, and they are very kindly participating in a medical trial for a new drug we’ve developed.”

Hughes took a quick breath before he spoke. “What sort of drug?”

“That would be telling, but seeing how you’ve been so cooperative, I don’t mind. The toxin breaks down the body’s ability to work alchemy. It has other effects as well, but you won’t need to worry about them, because you’re smart enough not to waste time. Personally, I wouldn’t wait much longer than six hours, as that’s when our other trial participants seemed to start having serious problems. Twelve hours is an estimate, and rather optimistic in my mind, but there are times science isn’t as precise as we’d like it to be.”

“I would like to speak with the Prime Minister.”

“I’m sure you would, since you’re such good friends and all, but he’s rather far from the phone right now and I’m not of a mind to get him at the moment. You’ll just have to trust me for now.”

“It’s a very cold night. Can we provide some blankets and food for the hostages?”

The voice chuckled. “There’s still plenty of hors d’oeuvres to go around. And as for blankets, this house has more than enough. It’s been very pleasant, Mr. Hughes, but you’ve got work to do, and I don’t want to hold you up. I’ll call back soon to see how well you’re progressing.”

The line went dead, and Hughes’ hand shook as he replaced the receiver. 

Hawkeye looked at him expectantly, but he took a moment to take stock of everything he’d just heard. “We’ve got trouble.”

“Do we still have a Prime Minister?” 

“Yes. And a bodyguard. For the time being.”

“What do they want?”

Hughes sighed. “The impossible.”

“How long do we have?”

“Not nearly long enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scooby Gang to the rescue! The conclusion of Antidote.

SUNDAY, 12:02 am

 

Ed inched closer to Roy, pressing his forehead against Roy’s neck.

“That’s not very comfortable.”

“Yes, but your neck is very warm.”

“It’s very warm because of the blood that’s currently not going to my brain.”

Ed sighed, resting his head against Roy’s collarbone instead. It wasn’t as soft, and he had to tuck his chin at a funny angle, but at least part of him was touching something warm. 

A bout of shivers wracked his body, and he clenched his teeth together to keep them from rattling in his head. 

“I don’t think you can really wait much longer.”

Ed shook his head. “It’s not that cold in here.”

“There is no surface in this room to lean on that isn’t leaching the heat right out of us. You’re too weak to stand right now.” Roy sighed, and Ed heard the air as it moved in Roy’s chest. “I can do it for you, if you want.”

“I haven’t lost any feeling. I’m cold, but I’m not going to freeze to death.”

“If we wait too long, and your temperature drops too far, it’s going to be very hard to get it back up.” Roy’s hand gently rubbed the small of Ed’s back. “I know it hurts—“

“You think that’s what I care about?” Ed backed away from him, disgust in his voice. “You think I’m worried about a little pain?” Ed exhaled sharply. “If there is any chance for us to escape, how useful to you think I’m going to be with one arm and one leg? How do you expect me to protect you like that?”

“I don’t expect you to protect me. I expect you to live through this, and if you keep your automail on, your chances are getting smaller.”

“This situation is bad enough without me being able to stand up!”

“You shouldn’t be standing as it is.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You’re right,” Roy said. “The point is, it’s fucking freezing in here, and pretty soon, you’re going to stop shivering, and that means that your body is going to start bailing on you. What’s worse, I’m going to try to keep you warm, and I’m just going to end up losing more heat because you’re just going to get colder, and frankly, I would rather have my heat go to the parts of you that actually need it.”

Ed closed his eyes, letting his head fall against the floor. He was so cold, and so tired, and as ridiculous as it was considering their situation, he didn’t want Roy to see him without his automail. His alchemy had been taken from him; did he have to lose what shreds of dignity he had left? Without his arm and leg, he felt weak and broken. He had seen the pitying looks before, and he didn’t want to see those expressions on Roy’s face.

“Ed. Please.” 

Roy Mustang was not given to pleading, but there was a quiet grief in his voice that made Ed’s chest ache. 

After a long silence, he finally nodded. He struggled to sit up, still feeling as if he’d been hit by a car. Again. Roy supported him without a word, his arm across Ed’s shoulders. 

“Do you want me to…”

“I got the leg,” Ed said quietly. “I need a little help with the arm.”

Ed rubbed his numb fingers together, trying to restore a little circulation. He pulled up the hem of his pants, sliding them up to mid-thigh. Everything felt stiff, and it took him a few tries to slide open the small panel behind his knee where the disconnect button resided. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and as he exhaled, he pressed the button.

Pain flared as the automail slid away from its port, and in seconds Ed’s whole being was suffused with it. If he had to describe it, and he wasn’t sure he really could, he could only say it was a cruel blend between being stabbed and burned. He groaned a little, trying hard to keep the unwelcome sounds from escaping his throat. Rubbing the flesh around the port gave him a little comfort, and he massaged it with both hands until the worst of the pain subsided.

“Maybe…we should wait a minute before we—“

“No.” Ed took another quick breath to keep his voice from shaking. “The arm’s worse. I’d rather get it over with.”

Roy sat directly behind him, Ed’s back against his chest. “Where’s the panel again?”

“Under my arm.” Ed lifted his elbow to give Roy room, and Roy slowly rolled up his sleeve to the shoulder. “Just tell me before you do it, okay?”

He felt Roy’s hands, still shockingly warm in comparison to his own, and felt Roy’s fingertips find the disconnect. “Okay. You ready?” His voice was soft, but strangely unaffected, as if this was something they did every day, when in fact, Roy had never been the one to help him remove his automail. 

Ed closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“On three.” Roy counted, and the pain rocketed through Ed a second time. He tried desperately not to, but he couldn’t stop a cry from leaping out of his mouth. 

“God, I’m sorry,” Roy said, setting down Ed’s arm and reaching out to embrace him.

“Don’t…touch…me!” Ed managed to say the words without screaming them, and he leaned forward, rocking a bit as the agony left his mind reeling. 

Roy backed away, looking simultaneously sick and grief-stricken. He stood, gathering up Ed’s arm and leg to set them a few paces away. 

Breathing hard, Ed pressed his flesh hand over the port in his shoulder. The pressure didn’t do much to ease the pain, but it always seemed like the right thing to do. The port ached fiercely, and even though Ed knew better, it still felt like blood was pouring down his sides. 

He glanced up and saw Roy looking down at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “It’ll be over in a minute,” Ed said softly by way of apology, though his screaming nerves seemed to contradict his statement.

Closing the distance between them, Roy sank to his knees, the dull light casting gray shadows across his face. “It is always that bad?”

Ed leaned heavily on his left arm, his palm splayed on the concrete floor. “It’s always bad, but that was worse than usual.” He blinked, suddenly lightheaded, and he wondered for a moment if he was going to faint. 

Before his body had quite made up its mind about whether or not to pass out, Roy was at his side, settling him against Roy’s chest. “Hey, easy now.”

Ed sighed, grateful for the warmth and support of Roy’s body next to his. “Thanks.”

He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent that was so utterly Roy Mustang that he almost smiled. Ed shifted his head, pressing his bruised cheek against Roy’s chest, and listened to his heartbeat. Unlike Ed’s heart, which still hadn’t fully calmed down since his alchemy attempt, Roy’s kept a quiet, even cadence, as if he were simply lying in bed reading a book and not facing potential death at the hands of terrorists. 

“Do you think we’re going to die?” Ed said.

Roy was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Even if we live, we’ll probably never do alchemy again.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that.”

Ed shivered, pressing closer to Roy. “On the other hand, we’re not going to survive after a few more hours in this cold, so whether or not we can do alchemy won’t matter so much.”

“Always the optimist.” A weak chuckle worked through Roy, shaking his chest.

“Whether or not we live, though,” Ed said, closing his eyes. “I guess I’m not sorry you’ve seen me for what I actually am. For what’s left, anyway.”

“I’d have to be blind not to see you for what you really are.”

“I’m half a person, Roy. Don’t pretend you’re not disturbed by it. I saw your face.”

“You think it’s not disturbing to see the person you love the most writhing on the floor in agony?” Roy exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re not half a person. You’re more fully human than pretty much anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I can’t walk. I can’t even stand. I’m a fucking invalid. How could you possibly want to be with,”—he gestured weakly with his left hand—“this?” 

Roy reached his arms around Ed and held him tightly, even as Ed resisted his touch. “How could you think that you without your automail would make me think of you any differently? I know who you are, Ed. I know what you are. You’re a genius. You’re unconventional. You’ve got a sick mind and a twisted sense of humor. You’re tenacious and obsessive, persistent and loyal. You fight as fiercely as you love and,” he stopped, taking a moment to breathe. “And I can’t for the life of me figure out why the hell you picked me of all people.”

“You and your damn grandstanding speeches. What the hell am I supposed to say after that?” 

“Don’t say anything. Just think about staying warm.”

Ed relaxed into his arms, fighting back the urge to completely fall apart. The time to lose it was after you were safe, after the crowds had dispersed and the cameras were gone. The time to lose it was in the Ebony suite, with warm skin and soft sheets and forgiving hands, and at the rate they were going, they weren’t going to get there anytime soon, if at all. 

A sudden noise overhead gave them both a start, and a chute of some kind opened up in the high ceiling. A canteen fell to the floor, and two army-issue blankets fluttered down before the chute closed again. 

Roy retrieved the unexpected windfall, offering the water to Ed first. He drank, unaware of how thirsty he’d been until the water slaked his throat. Roy helped wrap one blanket around Ed, and then draped the second over them both. It was still cold, but the bitter chill that had entered his bones seemed to be thawing somewhat. 

Roy took a drink, resolve set across his features. “So we’re less likely to freeze now. Hughes is out there. And Hawkeye. And Al. If anyone knows how to handle a hostile government crisis, it’s them. Things are looking up.” 

 

SUNDAY, 12:05 am

Hughes sank onto a crate, his head in his hands. “I can’t see any good way out of this.”

“Well, we’re going to have to look harder, because there has to be a way.”

“When is Armstrong coming?”

Hawkeye checked her watch. “It’ll be forty minutes at least.”

“Did he have any suggestions in the meantime?”

“Yes. He said Amestris’ policy is not to negotiate with terrorists.”

“Bradley’s policy was not to negotiate. Our government hasn’t even been around long enough to decide what the stationery should look like.” Hughes rubbed his palms together, hoping to restore a little warmth to his fingertips. Gracia had told him to bring his gloves, but did he ever listen? “The problem is that we’re already technically negotiating with them. Also, they have our Prime Minister.”

“I’m aware of the situation, Hughes.”

“Are you? Because it’s Roy in there. And Ed. And we’re sitting out here in the freezing cold without any kind of plan, while they’re in there dying of who knows what?” Hughes’ breath came fast, visible in the air. “We need to act.” 

“You don’t need to remind me what’s at stake. I love them too, and unlike you, if this whole thing falls apart, the blame is entirely mine.” She looked over at the car where Al was finishing up with the last of his patients. “We’re going around in circles. What do we know for certain?”

“You know and I know there is no freaking way we’re getting any of those crackpots out of jail. If we’re going to save them, it’s got to be an inside job.” Hughes chewed on his bottom lip. “We also know it can’t be you, and it can’t be me. They need to keep up communication with me, and we need you to hold everything else together.”

“We need to find out from Al who’s been cleared from the gas inhalation. We need blueprints of the Manor, and we need to go over the guest list again.”

“And I need to have some sort of answer for when they call back, which won’t be long in coming.”

Hawkeye wrapped her coat more tightly around herself. “Unless you talk to Roy or Ed, you can tell them all negotiations are stalled. We need confirmation they’re actually alive.”

Hughes dropped his voice. “Do you want to talk to Al, or do you want me to first?”

Hawkeye ran a hand down her face, shaking her head at him. “I’ve got it. I’m sure he has his suspicions already.”

 

SIX MONTHS PRIOR

“This one doesn’t have nearly as many bedrooms as the last one. Only twenty.” Ed walked over to the bed, poking the mattress. “Does this bed come with it, though? It’s pretty sturdy.”

Roy rolled his eyes, walking towards the bay windows. “Nice view.”

Ed stalked over to the windows, pulling the curtains shut. “Bullets travel through glass. These aren’t treated yet.”

“I haven’t even been sworn in. You think someone’s going to try to kill me?”

Ed scoffed. “People have been trying to kill you since the day I met you.”

“Lo those many years ago.”

“Hah. Not nearly as many as you’d like, lest I remind you how old I was at the time.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Oh yeah, I’m the one who’s gross.” Ed grinned at him, letting his smile turn sultry. “You and your debauchery, corrupting the innocent.”

Roy narrowed his gaze. “Innocent people don’t become State Alchemists.”

“There’s nothing particularly innocent about anyone who’s an alchemist, State or not, in case you didn’t know. Except for Al. He’s pretty innocent.” Ed draped himself across the bed. “He did say you had the worst case of the clap he’s ever seen, though. Don’t you know there are other doctors you can see in Amestris besides my brother?”

“I sprained my wrist, you asshole. You suggested I see him.”

“I’m just saying, he said it was pretty nasty.”

“I don’t have a disease, bastard. And even if I did, your brother’s not one for doctor-patient confidentiality?” 

“Please. You think Al wants me to get the clap as badly as you’ve got it?” Ed dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Oh, my God. You should see your face.”

“I just won the general election to become Prime Minister of Amestris, and you’re making fun of my perfectly healthy, and might I add, highly-sought-after cock. A lesser man might feel like his manhood was being challenged. A lesser man might feel the need to kick some ass for statements like that.”

Ed snickered. “I’m not afraid of you. You don’t have your gloves on, and even if you did, you’re not going to burn this house down. You haven’t even bought it yet.”

“I just might buy it and burn it down just to spite you.”

“Wouldn’t the spite be more directed towards the generous taxpayers of Amestris?”

Roy shrugged. “Yeah, but they don’t have to know.” He tossed a long paper tube at Ed, which he caught in midair. “Look over these, thou god of security and suchlike. See if it meets with your divine approval.”

Ed pulled out the papers, spreading them across the bed. “What was this guy again? I can’t keep them all straight. Was he the taxidermist?”

“No.” Roy shuddered. “No stuffed dead animals. That’s disgusting. And that was the house without an attic. I’m not spending all this money—“

“Amestris’ money—“

“Whatever. On a house without a freaking attic. Where are you supposed to put all your stuff?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the other three hundred rooms? Or the six garages?”

“No taxidermists. End of story.” Roy made a sweeping gesture to indicate the matter was off the table. “The guy that owned this house was an architect, actually. He built it.”

“Are you sure?” Ed stared at the plans, surprised. “This seems awfully odd for someone who designed for a living. It’s…I don’t know. The lines aren’t clean.”

“It’s not an array, you know.”

“Really? Thanks for that brilliant clarification.” He stuck his tongue out at him. “Come on. This one hallway just ends in the middle of nowhere. It’s just weird, Roy. And there are windows in odd places.”

“Yes, but you like the bed. Also, I understand a moat could be easily installed.”

“We’re not putting in a moat unless we get crocodiles.”

Roy made a face. “Um, yeah, we’re not getting crocodiles.”

“Well, even without the moat, this wouldn’t be as difficult to protect from the outside as the other houses we’ve seen. As weird as this guy was, he knew how to make a property that was more difficult to infiltrate.” Ed studied the drawings, still puzzled. “I suppose in the end it’s up to you.”

“True enough.” Roy stroked his chin, striking a pose he probably considered very dramatic. Some days there was no living with him, especially since the election results had rolled in. “I say we take it.” 

 

SUNDAY, 12:54 am

Roy looked up as he heard the sound of keys at their door. Ed awoke with a start, breathing hard beneath the blankets. 

A figure appeared in the doorway, flanked by several men wielding guns. “Prime Minister, get up. Someone needs to talk to you.”

Muscles tensing, Roy rose to his feet as Ed muttered curses beneath his breath. One gunman came forward, his weapon pointed lazily at Roy. “Let’s go.”

“Where are you taking him?” Ed demanded.

The figure in the doorway tsked at him. “You shouldn’t get so agitated. It’ll only make the toxin work faster.”

Roy glanced once at Ed, grateful that the blankets covered up the fact his automail had been removed. “I’ll be back.” He walked slowly towards the doorway, hoping that he hadn’t just lied.

A gun pressed into the middle of his back and forced him forward, and Roy stepped out of the cell into the buzzing lights of the corridor. He’d never seen this place before. It was, it seemed, some kind of underground passage connected to the Manor, but he couldn’t tell where it led. 

With his vision clear and sufficient light, Roy could see one of his captors for the first time. The man was middle-aged, pale, with graying temples. He had propped up black spectacles on his forehead, and was still dressed in his tuxedo jacket. He turned back to look at Roy. “Your foolish bodyguard tried to use alchemy, didn’t he? It’s a miracle he lived. He’s the first one who has, actually, considering how much he received. Clearly you weren’t as stupid as he was, or you wouldn’t be moving as well as you are.”

Roy breathed slowly in an attempt to keep calm. “He’s got nothing to do with this. I’m the man you want. Why don’t you let him go?”

“I don’t want either one of you, frankly, but you’re a means to my ends. Besides, you’re both part of my research now. There aren’t so many alchemists left to practice on, as you well know.”

The gun pressed hard enough into his back to hurt. “Right here.”

Roy winced as he walked into a small chamber, filled with wires and radio equipment. A pair of legs stuck out from beneath one of the panels, and Roy heard someone swearing as sparks flew. On the far wall, there was a table and two chairs, and a telephone sat in the center of the table. 

“Sit. Hands on the table.” His captor took the seat opposite Roy, and proceeded to dial the phone. A slight smile curved his lips before he spoke. “Mr. Hughes. How pleasant to speak with you again.”

Roy pressed his palms into the wooden tabletop, the tendons in his hands visible beneath the skin. He could just barely hear Hughes’ voice coming through the receiver, and guilt washed through him. He gave him his current position to help keep him out of trouble, not throw him headlong into the middle of a diplomatic nightmare. 

“I’m a scientist, Mr. Hughes. I understand physical evidence. Proof is what interests me. I am going to offer you some proof, and if you’re wise, very shortly you will offer me some as well.”

His captor stood, holding the phone to Roy’s ear and mouth. “Say hello to Mr. Hughes.”

“Roy! Are you okay? Is Ed okay?”

It was so good to hear Hughes’ voice on the other end that it almost hurt. “Maes. Listen. Ed’s hurt. I’m okay. Whatever they want, don’t give it—“

“Prime Minister, please. You are not involved in these discussions except to prove that you are indeed still alive.” His captor tilted his head, holding the phone between his cheek and shoulder. “The problem is, Mr. Hughes, is that I am well aware that no steps have yet been taken to free my brethren from their imprisonment.”

Roy took a breath and held it. He could hear Hughes trying to explain something, but he knew that the stakes were about to change. 

“Be that as it may, the time of day hardly matters to me or them. They have life sentences. I have a timetable to keep. You are aware of what will happen if my demands aren’t met. The problem is, I don’t think you’re taking me as seriously as you need to. Perhaps the poison I’ve given your friends isn’t enough of an incentive.” 

He motioned to one of the gunmen, and pointed at Roy. “I think it’s time to give you a little more encouragement to move more quickly.” He covered the receiver, speaking softly to Roy. “Move, and you die. Stay still, and you’ll live.”

Roy barely had time to process the meaning of his words when the gun went off. Pain ripped through his right arm, and he wasn’t able to stop himself from crying out. He pressed his left palm against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Let’s try this again.” He held the phone to Roy’s ear. “Tell Mr. Hughes you’re still alive.”

“I’m…still alive. Just my arm,” Roy said through clenched teeth.

“Roy! Wait! Where are you—“

His captor took the phone away. “You have your orders, Mr. Hughes. You’re good at following them, from what I understand. See if you can’t get this underway. Next time I’ll shoot Mr. Elric, and believe me, he can’t afford it.” He hung up the phone, and stood over Roy. “Get up.”

Roy slowly rose to his feet, blood running down the length of his arm, turning his shirt crimson. “They’re never going to give you what you want. They work for me. They know I’d never stand for it.”

“They love you, Prime Minister. They love you more than they love Amestris. You have no idea what they’re capable of. That’s just one reason why in matters of state it’s better to be feared than admired.”

 

SUNDAY, 1:04 am

Al heard a soft pop, almost like a distant crack of thunder, and he heard Riza swear viciously.

Hughes gasped. “Roy! Wait! Where are you—“ After another minute, Hughes replaced the receiver, his hand shaking as he hung up the phone.

“What happened?” Riza sounded like she knew the answer already.

Covering his face with his hands for a few moments, Hughes nodded. “They shot Roy. In the arm, just to make him bleed.” He ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath as he looked up at Al. “Roy said Ed’s hurt. They said if we don’t make some progress quickly towards releasing the prisoners, Ed’s going to be next.”

Voices all began speaking at once. “There aren’t that many of them. We can take the Manor.” Armstrong’s gruff tones tried to railroad over Riza, but she held her own, putting them all in their places with a glare.

“They will kill them. We already know they’re prepared to do it.”

Hughes pulled out one of his knives, testing the edge. “If they even see us mounting any kind of rescue, they’ll kill them.”

The argument continued, albeit in more civil tones, but it was clear agreement would be long in coming. 

Al stood completely still, letting the night wind blow across his face. Since Riza had apprized him of the situation, he hadn’t quite known how to feel. Ed always seemed to get himself into one sort of trouble or another, and Al knew there was always the potential something disastrous would happen as the bodyguard to the Prime Minister. This seemed strangely crueler than what he’d faced in the past; Al was less than two hundred feet from the Manor, and yet it might as well have been a thousand miles. 

He also knew what it was they’d given to Roy and Ed. 

A few months ago, after he’d decided to leave the University for awhile, someone had broken into his office. Nothing had been taken, and nothing was even broken, except for the lock. University security had investigated, and the culprits were caught; a scruffy trio of grad students trying to change their grades. At the time, Al had thought it was strange his students would resort to such measures, as the three of them were among his favorites even though their marks were lackluster. Still, Al knew better than most what some people would risk trying to achieve something out of their reach. 

For awhile he’d put aside his automail designs in favor of some kind of serum that would help block the pain associated with removing it. It might even be something used during operations to install automail, which were among the most excruciating surgeries done in Amestris. He’d been up all night, forgetting the time as he often did, and the combination happened by accident when he dropped a vial. At first he wasn’t sure what he’d made, but when he started to analyze it, he realized he’d created something altogether different and far more ominous than he intended. It was supposed to block pain receptors, but instead, it interrupted the flow of energy throughout the body. He remembered putting the pen down, realizing that he’d just made something powerful enough to block a person’s ability to perform alchemy. 

After cleaning up the lab and removing all traces of his work, he copied his notes into his file, using a bizarre cipher Izumi had taught him. He burned the original notes, dropping a match into his metal dustbin. Whatever he’d wandered into was worth remembering, as often mistakes like that led to progress, but he’d freaked himself out enough to stop working on the serum.

He wanted to tell Ed. He almost had. The thing was, he never wanted the serum used on anyone, and if he told Ed, Ed would tell Roy, and inevitably, Al would be called in to some secret lab somewhere to explain how he made it. It would cause far more problems than it solved, and he didn’t want to be responsible for its use in ways he didn’t condone. It was one of the few secrets he’d kept from his brother, and from Riza too. 

Al felt himself shaking, but it wasn’t from the cold. They’d stolen his notes. His own colleagues had stolen his work, which had never even been tested, and used it as a poison against his own flesh and blood. The rage building inside of him had blown away any desire to even speak or listen to the discussion swirling around him. If he told Hughes and Riza the truth, it would only serve to distract them, wasting more time Ed and Roy didn’t have.

Blowing out a long breath, he tried to steady his thoughts. Since he’d never had the intention of moving the serum to the testing stage, he’d never seriously worked on an antidote. His colleagues claimed to have one, but Al couldn’t be sure; it wouldn’t be the first time they’d attempted such an experiment without a known way to reverse the damage. If he had days, weeks even, he’d have the time to immerse himself in the lab and he was certain he’d be successful in creating an antidote, but at this rate, he only had a few hours. Walking to the car, he started rifling through his medical bag, checking the labels on the various remedies inside. 

Havoc lay across the back seat, his eyes closed. He’d refused to be taken to the hospital along with the others, and since most of his symptoms were under control, Al had relented. 

“What’s going on?” Havoc asked, his question cut off by a cough.

“If you’ve been smoking in here, so help me God…” Al muttered, shining the torch in his bag. “Things are no better. There’s still no plan. We’re running out of time. Par for the course as far as we’re concerned.”

Havoc sat up, looking over the back seat. “What are you looking for?”

Al sighed. “I don’t even know.” He looked through the bottles, the glass clinking as they bumped into one another. 

“Are they sending in a team or something to get them out?”

“The leader shot Roy. We can’t make a move or he’ll kill them both.” 

“Fuck.” Havoc rubbed a hand across his face, looking every bit as exhausted as Al felt. “Do we at least know where they are in the house?”

“No one knows. We haven’t been able to get close enough to the Manor to do any investigation. The gunshot seemed far away though; Hawkeye thinks they must be underground.”

Havoc nodded. “The bomb shelter.”

Al stared at him incredulously. “The what?”

“You know, the bomb shelter. The guy who built this house was a wack job. He thought the end of the world was coming.”

“Did Ed and Roy know about it? It’s not on the blueprints?”

Havoc shrugged. “I doubt it. The only reason I found the shelter is because I,” he paused, looking suddenly sheepish. “I pulled the Roadster into the garage too fast a week or two ago, and I kind of hit the back wall, and I found a door behind the drywall. I only went down for a minute; it’s completely empty. You go down the steps, and then you sort of feel for this notch in the floor. It opens up a hatch, and there’s a ladder that goes down into the shelter.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Al whispered, keeping his voice down to keep from shouting. Why Roy kept Havoc around was, at times, an absolutely mystery to Al. 

“I seriously didn’t think anything of it. I just piled some of Roy’s crap in front of the door. No one even noticed. Besides, I had to get the bumper fixed before anyone saw. It’s not like there aren’t weird little hallways inside the Manor too. There’s plenty of stuff not on the blueprints. You’re also forgetting there’s about a hundred guards here every day. I can’t be the only person who knows about this. I mean, statistically, what are the odds?”

“Okay. Okay.” Al pressed his fingertips to his temples. “Okay. So we know there’s a connection between the shelter and the Manor somewhere underground. But they’re going to have people posted around the garage, though, especially if it’s the only aboveground entrance. Getting them out that way unnoticed wouldn’t be easy.” 

And, he thought, there’s the matter of the antidote. Before giving up on the serum entirely, Al had considered giving it to himself to see how it really worked, but in the end, he decided against a complete dose. The risks were too great. Riza had moved in with him. Ed was now the bodyguard to the most powerful person in Amestris, to say nothing of the fact Ed had gambled his own life a second time to get Al’s body back. Instead, he made a variant of the serum, much less potent than the original, and injected himself with it. 

The serum had no great effect until the dosed person actually tried to use alchemy. The serum blocked the energy flow in the body, which translated to air and blood. Using alchemy would start the chain reaction, and could possibly mean the person’s heart might stop, or their lungs could fail. Of course it depended on how strong a dose the person was given, and how much. When Al tried using alchemy, he found the low-strength serum didn’t actually stop him from doing it, but it reduced its effects by a serious degree. He found it hard to breathe, and for a frightening moment, he did wonder if he was going to pass out alone in the lab. He hadn’t told anyone what he was working on. 

A few hours later, he tried using alchemy again, and this time, it was easier, and he didn’t suffer the physical effects as strongly as he had before. By noon, his body had processed the serum out of his bloodstream, and alchemy worked as seamlessly as it always had. 

“Al. You’re just standing there, staring into space.” Havoc waved a hand at him.

“Yeah. I’m thinking.” 

“You want me to tell Hawkeye what I found out about the shelter?” 

“Not yet. I have an idea.”

 

SUNDAY 1:20 am

Ed’s gaze kept returning to his automail. Getting the arm back on would be difficult, but he could at least have his leg. As he pondered exactly how he might accomplish this, he heard the keys rattle against the door again, and watched as the door opened, and Roy appeared in the doorway, slouching forward as he walked. 

He suddenly flew forward, and landed heavily on his knees as cruel laughter rang from the corridor. The door shut behind him, and Ed reached out his hand towards Roy. “Those shitheads. When I get my alchemy back I’m going to—“ Roy moved into the light, and Ed gasped when he saw the blood. “Oh my God. You’ve been shot.”

Roy sighed, clutching his arm as he stood and walked closer where Ed sat. “The bullet went through. They weren’t trying to kill me. They just wanted me to scream so Hughes could hear.”

Blood soaked the entire sleeve of Roy’s shirt, and it ran down his wrists, drying on his palm. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“It looks worse than it is.” Roy sat down heavily, his breath rising as a cloud. “Here’s the thing.” His earlier optimism had vanished from his tone. “It’s not going to be much longer before they come for you. If they shoot you, you’re not going to live. The way I see it, right now, we’re both alive and we’re going to have to take our chances.”

“Before you say anything else, we need to try to stop your bleeding.” Ed lifted the topmost blanket, offering it to Roy. “If we both pull with our good arms, I think it’ll tear. Between the two of us, we can get the bandage on.”

Roy shook his head. “Not yet.” Instead he turned away, looking at the floor.

“No. No fucking way. Absolutely not.” Ed used his hand to push himself forward, using his opposite foot to inch his way closer to Roy. “You saw what happened to me. You won’t live, Roy, you won’t—“

“You don’t know that. You’re bound much more closely to your alchemy than I am. I think it won’t be as bad if I use an array.”

“You’re just guessing! And array or not, you’re still using your body to complete the circle. It’s still going to affect you, and you’re losing blood by the second. Roy, listen to me!” 

Roy ignored him, using his own blood to start marking the symbols on the concrete. “This is going to end sooner than we think. Things are falling apart, and if we don’t try to escape, we’re not going to get out of here.”

“It’s no good if you end up dead.” It took all of Ed’s energy to move another few inches, and then he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.

“You’re not going to stop me, so quit trying. Save your strength.”

Ed watched in grim fascination as the outline of an array appeared on the floor, marked out in crimson. Roy had the ability to draw incredibly complex arrays, but he lacked the patience to practice on a regular basis. Every few moments, he touched his fingers to the wound, coating his fingers with blood to continue. 

“Blood arrays are nothing to fuck around with, Roy. I should know. Don’t do this.”

“There isn’t an option, Ed. They’re going to shoot you. You won’t live. End of story.”

“And if you die right here on the floor in this room? Then what? You think they won’t shoot me the minute they see you’re dead? Or maybe better yet they’ll keep me alive awhile to be their lab rat until they decide to kill me later? You haven’t thought this through.” Ed tried to sit up, but found his muscles simply shook, and he fell back against the concrete. 

“Whether or not I live, I’m making sure you get away.” Roy continued inking down his lines, which were smudged and shaky, but thick enough to allow the energy to pass along them. 

“Blowing the room up’s not going to help. Or the house. In case you haven’t noticed, if a fire is headed in my direction, there’s not a lot I can do to get away from it.”

“I’m not going to blow up the house.” Roy was looking pale, but he didn’t falter in his sketching.

“Roy, look at me. Please.” Roy stopped for a moment, looking up to meet Ed’s stare. “I don’t want you to do this. If we’re going to die, if I’m going to die, I don’t want the last thing we do to be fighting with each other while you bleed to death.”

Roy gave him a half smile, shaking his head. “I already told you. You’re not going to die. And if there’s anything I can do about it, I won’t either. This isn’t the last thing we’re going to do.”

He placed his palms flat on the array, and closing his eyes.

“Wait!”

Roy looked up at Ed, and Ed stared back. The voice that spoke sounded very much like Ed, but Ed hadn’t opened his mouth. 

“Don’t move.” A small square of light had appeared in the ceiling, and something long and metal came to rest on the floor. A figure climbed down the ladder silently, his finger on his lips. 

“Al,” Ed breathed, staring at his brother as if he were an imaginary creature come to life.

Al shook his head, and crossed the room quickly. Touching the back of his glove, power flared as he set a barrier across the doorway. 

“We don’t have much time.” Al’s voice was so soft Ed wondered if he was imagining it. “Havoc is upstairs. I knocked out the guards, but they won’t be out for long. Roy, can you climb?”

Roy nodded, and he walked to the corner where the ladder lay. “Can you carry Ed?”

Al flashed him an easy smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

As Roy began the ascent, Al made his way to Ed’s side. “You’re looking pretty worse for the wear, big brother.” 

Ed opened his mouth to speak, but Al shook his head. “No time.” He used one of the blankets to form a sling over his back to hold Ed’s arm and leg, and then picked Ed up in his arms. It wasn’t so strange when Al was still in his armor that his little brother would be so strong, but it always caught Ed off guard once Al got his body back. 

They climbed the ladder out of the chamber, but as they came to the steps, they heard gunshots. 

“Shit.” Al wasn’t usually one for swearing, which made Ed more nervous than he already was. His brother put him down, and put his limbs on the floor beside Ed. 

Stepping lightly up the stairs, Al poked his head out the door, and then pulled in back in as a bullet ricocheted off the frame. “They’ve got Havoc and Roy pinned in behind the car. I’ve got to go help them.”

“Al, no! Don’t leave me here!”

“I’ll be right back, brother.” Al ran up the stairs, and more gunshots followed.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Ed scrambled with his one good hand to find his leg. He willed himself not to scream, and forced his leg back on, drowning in the momentary agony. Before he was really ready, he stood, and he nearly fainted at the sudden rush of blood to his head. Panting for breath, he found his arm, and clumsily shoved it back into place. There wasn’t time to even let the pain register, and fortunately, his adrenaline helped keep some of it at bay. He climbed the stairs and pushed the door open slightly.

The garage was misty with gun smoke, and it took Ed a moment to see where Havoc and Roy had barricaded themselves. A line of gunmen were visible through the veil, and through the corner of his eye, Ed saw where Al had positioned himself. Ed felt his breath falter. He knew beyond any doubt that Al was going to put himself between the gunmen and Roy, and that he was going to bet on his alchemy to save them all. 

Ed burst through the door before he could really think very clearly about what he was about to do. Running as fast as his legs would carry him, he moved towards the gunmen, bringing his hands together. 

In the next moment, he felt himself flying backwards, but he had the awareness to see that the gunmen were no longer standing; they’d been blown back by the force of his botched alchemic reaction. Ed slammed into the Roadster, cracking his head against the bumper. 

He rolled to the floor, landing on his back, and as he stared up at the ceiling, he felt his lungs straining for breath. His whole body ached, and he couldn’t get enough air, even though he was gasping. Every beat of his heart felt like a knife was being pressed into his chest.

“Ed!”

As the two faces he loved best swam into his vision, Ed closed his eyes. This was as it should be. It was what he was meant for. Dying on behalf of Roy and Al was the least he could do to repay the debt he owed them both. 

It wasn’t a struggle to breathe anymore, and his body felt peaceful, like it was floating. He smiled and let the waves of darkness carry him away. 

It was over. 

 

SUNDAY, 11:05 pm

It wasn’t supposed to hurt anymore, but strangely enough, it did.

Ed opened his eyes, blinking back against the low lights. He looked to his right, and saw pea green curtains closed against what could only be the night. Looking to his left, he saw a bottle of blood hanging over him and a tube draining into his left arm. Beyond that, there was another bed, and he saw a familiar figure snoring softly. 

Roy was alive. He was alive. He wondered if this was some kind of dream. Maybe his mind was still flashing images as he lay dying. He could still be on the floor of the garage. How would he ever know? People said the way to tell you weren’t dreaming was to pinch yourself. That always seemed rather shortsighted to Ed; your brain could tell you were awake even if you weren’t. 

It was the kind of discussions about reality and time that he and Al used to have on the train sometimes years ago. There was something about riding on trains that made perfectly normal people talk like philosophers or metaphysical experts. Of course, there was nothing remotely normal about he or his brother, so it was a moot point. 

What was odd is that if this was actually a dream, or some last ditch death throe, why would it still hurt to breathe? Why was Roy snoring? Why did this place smell so much like a hospital, and how could these sheets feel as scratchy as they did? 

Feeling like an idiot, he used his automail hand to pinch the flesh of his left forearm. It hurt.

He looked over at Roy, and almost started laughing in spite of how much he knew it would hurt. He looked around him for something to throw at Roy, but there wasn’t any small object within easy reach. Ed decided to use his old standby.

He groaned, and this time, he really didn’t have to fake it.

Roy’s eyes blinked open, and relief washed over his features as he came to Ed’s bedside. “They said you wouldn’t wake up for hours.” He kissed his forehead first, and then his lips. “You’re alive.”

Ed let himself bathe in the soft warmth of Roy’s fingertips against his face. “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting that.” He craned his neck to inspect Roy’s arm. “Did you ever stop bleeding?”

A weak laugh escaped Roy’s lips. “It’ll be fine.”

“Everyone else okay?”

Roy sat on the bed beside him, stroking his cheek. “Once the gunfight started, Armstrong and his forces stormed the Manor. The terrorists are dead.”

Ed exhaled. “Too bad. I wanted to do that myself.”

“You won’t be kicking any ass today, or tomorrow either.”

Ed reached out for Roy with his automail hand. “I don’t know if I want to know, but are we still alchemists?”

“Thanks to Al, we are.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s resting. He gave a lot of blood today.”

Ed glanced up at the IV bottle. “I don’t remember bleeding very much.”

“Al had the antibodies in his system to fight the poison. You and he are the same type, so you’ve gotten transfusions. He and I aren’t, but he was able to use his blood to make an antidote for me.”

Ed sat up, trying to get out of bed. “Is he okay? Where is he?” 

Roy placed a hand on Ed’s chest, pushing him back down gently. “He’s going to be fine. Hawkeye’s with him, and Al told me to tell you that he wants to be the one to come see you and not the other way around. He’ll come as soon as he’s gotten his strength back.”

“I don’t understand. Why would Al have antibodies in his blood for this poison? It makes no sense.”

Roy’s sighed. “They stole Al’s research, Ed. They took something he created and used it as a weapon against us. Fortunately he had used it on himself, and his body had an immunity to counteract the poison.”

Ed sat in silence for a long moment. “Al invented a fucking alchemist poison?”

“It sounds a lot worse when you say it like that.”

“My brother is a mad scientist.”

“Not really mad. Well, he was royally pissed when they were having trouble reviving you, but once he figured out that all you needed was some of his blood, he calmed down pretty fast.”

Ed shook his head, feeling like the room was spinning. It was too much for his addled brain to take in. “I’m going to have to process the Al-inventing-chemical-weapons part later. Tell me one thing, though. Did I hit the car this time?”

Roy bit his lip to keep from smiling. “Yeah, you did. We won’t have to get the car repaired, though.”

Shaking his head, Ed inched closer to Roy. “God, it feels good to be warm.”

“You still feel cold to me,” Roy said softly, tracing his fingers over Ed’s collarbone, touching the pulse that beat gently beneath the skin. “You scared me, Ed. Scared me so badly.”

“I really thought you were going to do that array.”

“I was going to.”

“Did Al say…what would have happened if you had?”

Roy nodded, looking away. “Yeah. I would have died.”

Ed looked at him seriously, and touched his face. “I don’t think you would have. I wasn’t about to tell you at the time, but the lines of that array were so screwed up that it wasn’t going to make anything happen. You didn’t even finish the left side of it.” He gave him a small smile. “I’m sure Al didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”

Pursing his lips, Roy took a breath before speaking. “Just because I don’t draw arrays like a freaking perfectionist doesn’t mean I don’t know how to draw them.”

“Don’t be cranky. You were bleeding a lot at the time.”

Roy reached his arms around Ed, embracing him as best he could without disturbing the IV. “I’m not cranky. I’m just angry and sore and shot, and exhausted and so relieved and just so fucking spent.” He took a long, shuddering breath. “And I love you, and if you hadn’t made it, I don’t know how I’d go on.”

Ed rubbed his back with his automail hand. “You’re Roy Mustang. You’d be fine. You still have your fan club, remember?”

“I don’t want a fan club. I want you.”

“Well, good, because you have me.”

Roy released him, stretching out to lie beside him on the small hospital bed. “I was thinking before if you didn’t live, I would resign. I wouldn’t want to be Prime Minister.”

Ed shook his head. “There have been days when I’ve been perfectly alive and healthy and you haven’t wanted to be Prime Minister.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Ed kissed the top of Roy’s head, smelling the shampoo someone had kindly used to wash his lover’s hair. “I know.”

He looked up, contemplating the tube that brought his brother’s blood into his own body. “Do you think that maybe any of Al’s better qualities are coming through with this?”

“Did you have a specific one in mind?”

“He’s really good with directions. I was thinking maybe that.”

Roy laughed, the same one he always laughed when he was beyond tired but so pleased to be in Ed’s company that he stayed awake anyway. “I think you’ve probably already given each other the best of yourselves.” 

The room grew quiet, and before long, Roy was lightly snoring, his head against Ed’s shoulder. Tomorrow, there would be pain, and there would be questions, and there would be forms to fill out and probably people to fire. For now, though, there was warmth, and safety, and no fear for the people he loved best. If he believed in heaven, he thought that it quite possibly might feel a little like this. Ed exhaled, and then breathed in the sweet scent of Roy as he closed his eyes to sleep.


End file.
